“God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds.”
Too frequently we read these words, and do not think of the origin of them. When we look at the prophecies, we say this is the prophecy of Daniel or Isaiah or Jeremiah or of some other man; but this is not the way that we should look upon the words that these men uttered. God spoke to the fathers by the prophets. What a difference in the thought when we look at prophecy not as the words of man, but as the words of God to men.
“The Revelation” is called the revelation of “St. John,” but we find it to be “The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave unto him, to show unto his servants things which must shortly come to pass; and he sent and signified it by his angel unto his servant John.” Here we see that it is not from John at all, but it is something that God has given to Christ to send by the angel to his servants.
Again, we read, “Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord; and he shall send Jesus Christ, which before was preached unto you; whom the heavens must receive until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began.” Here is the same thought: God is speaking to men. It is God’s message, not man’s. “Prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.”
Every thought expressed in the Word of God should be carefully pondered, and every sentence seriously considered. We need to follow the example of Cornelius and his followers. Speaking to Peter, Cornelius said: “Immediately therefore I sent to thee; and thou hast well done that thou art come. Now therefore are we all here present before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of God.” They were there to hear God’s message, not the message of Peter. And when Peter opened his mouth and began to speak to them, they understood that the message was from God to them. Speaking of the Thessalonians, Paul says: “For this cause also we thank God without ceasing, because, when ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but as it is in truth, the word of God, which effectually worketh also in you that believe.” When we separate these words from men, and receive them as the words of God, which they are, then they begin to work. When Cornelius and his company were gathered there to receive the words of God, then there came the outpouring of the Holy Ghost upon them to such an extent that Peter was compelled to say, “As I began to speak, the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on us at the beginning.”
Here was fulfilled in them just what we wish to be fulfilled in us, just what we have been praying for for years. Have we been listening to the prophet and saying these are just the words of man, and many times criticizing them, and rejecting them because we could not harmonize them with our life?
We should come into our assemblies, not to criticize the minister, not like the Athenians to hear what “this babbler” will say, not filled with curiosity to see what kind of man has been sent among us, not to see whether we like the new minister or not, but to hear what God has for us. Many a sermon has been a failure because it received the criticism of the hearers instead of their prayers. Many a battle has been lost to God’s people because there were no Aarons and Hurs to hold up the hands of the servant of God. Let us come into line, stand shoulder to shoulder, a solid phalanx, each one bearing his burden for souls, each one considering his brother and helping him. Let every one say, Let me hear what God has for me.
We are living in a time when God has promised to speak to his people most abundantly. “It shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: and on my servants and on my handmaidens I will pour out in those days of my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.”
Now as it is positive that God is to speak to you and me through the spirit of prophecy, it is most important that you and I be in a position where we can say, Here we are before God; speak, for thy servant heareth. “To-day, after so long a time; as it is said, To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” We are on the borders of the promised land, just ready to cross over. Let us carefully listen to the still, small voice that says, “This is the way, walk ye in it.”
Honolulu, H. I.
Character Built Through Daily Habits
“THE nobler a man is in character, the more sunshine can he scatter around him. Our universe knows no nobler luminary than the sun. The best of human wills can not ripen into permanent greatness while the fearful power of negligent habit in trivial things is giving bent and character to the soul. The higher laws of life are not broken with impunity. Character is not constituted by a brilliant dash now and then; it is what we make it by the use of our powers in routine matters.”
The Chronology from the Birth of Christ to the End of the Seventy Weeks
(Concluded)
AFTER the Saviour commenced his miracles, in Cana of Galilee, he went down to Capernaum; “and they continued there not many days. And the Jews’ passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.” John 2:12, 13. On this occasion he drove out those who defiled the temple with merchandise. And when asked a sign, he said to them: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up. Then said the Jews, Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt thou rear it up in three days? But he spake of the temple of his body.” John 2:18-21. Herod the Great began his preparations for the rebuilding of the temple, by gathering materials, two years previous to the commencement of the work on the temple, B. C. 19. Reckoning from this, forty-six years extend to, and bring his first passover in, A. D. 28.
“After this there was a feast of the Jews; and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.” John 5:1. Dr. Hales says, “The correcter reading appears to be the feast, by way of eminence, as the passover was styled (Luke 2:42; John 4:45; 11:56; 12:12),” which reading is sustained “by twenty-five MSS., including the three oldest.” This, then, was the second passover during Christ’s ministry. A. D. 29.
Again we read, “And the passover, a feast of the Jews, was nigh.” John 6:4. The Saviour did not go up openly to this feast, because his time was not then full come, and the Jews were seeking to kill him. After this, the Jews required of him a sign, and he told them that no sign should be given them, but the sign of Jonas the prophet. Matt. 16:4. A. D. 30.
Again: the Saviour said to his disciples, “Ye know that after two days is the feast of the passover, and the Son of man is betrayed to be crucified.” Matt. 26:2. This was the fourth and last passover during his ministry, and, reckoning from the commencement of his ministry, in the autumn of A. D. 27, reaches to the midst of the week, when he should “cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease.” Dan. 9:27. A. D. 31.
The Saviour “sent Peter and John, saying, Go and prepare us the passover, that we may eat.” Luke 22:8. And “they made ready the passover. And when the hour was come, he sat down, and the twelve apostles with him.” Verses 13, 14. On this occasion he instituted the Lord’s supper, as a memorial of his death, till he should again come. After this, the Jews seized on him, gave him a mock trial, and crucified him. “And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the sun was darkened.” Luke 23:44, 45.
“This obscuration of the sun must have been preternatural, in its extent, duration, and opposition of the moon at full to the sun. It was observed at Heliopolis, in Egypt, by Dionysius, the Areopagite, afterward the illustrious convert of Paul at Athens (Acts 17:33, 34), who, in a letter to the martyr Polycarp, describes his own and his companion’s—the sophist Apollophanes—astonishment at the phenomenon, when they saw the darkness commence at the eastern brink of the sun, and proceed to the western, till the whole was eclipsed; and then retrograde, from the western to the eastern, till his light was fully restored; which they attributed to the miraculous passage of the moon across the sun’s disk. Apollophanes exclaimed, as if divining the cause, ‘These, O good Dionysius, are the vicissitudes of divine events!’ Dionysius answered, ‘Either the Deity suffers, or he sympathizes with the sufferer.’ And that sufferer, according to tradition recorded by Michael Syncellus, of Jerusalem, he declared to be ‘The Unknowable God,’ for whose sufferings all nature was darkened and convulsed.”—Hales, Vol. II, page 897.
“A total eclipse of the moon may occasion a privation of her light for an hour and a half, during her total immersion in the shadow; whereas, a total eclipse of the sun can never last in any particular place above four minutes, when the moon is nearest to the earth, and her shadow thickest.
“Hence it appears that the darkness which ‘overspread the whole land of Judea’ at the time of our Lord’s crucifixion, was preternatural, or miraculous in its extent; and ‘from the sixth until the ninth hour,’ or from noon until three in the afternoon, in its duration, and also in its time, about full moon, when the moon could not possibly eclipse the sun.
The time it happened, and the fact itself, are recorded in a curious and valuable passage of a respectable Roman consul, Aurelius Cassiodorus, senator, about A. D. 514:—
“In the consulate of Tiberius Cæsar Augustus V and Aelius Sejanus (U. C. 784, A. D. 31), our Lord Jesus Christ suffered on the eighth of the Calends of April (twenty-fifth of March), when there happened such an eclipse of the sun as was never before nor since. ”
“In this year, and in this day, agree also the Council of Cæsarea, A. D. 196 or 198; the Alexandrian Chronicle, Maximus Monachus, Nicephorus Constantinus, Cedrenus; and in this year, but on different days, concur Eusebius, and Epiphanius, followed by Kepler, Bucher, Patinus, and Petavius, some reckoning it the tenth of the Calends of April, others the thirteenth. Amidst this variety of days, we may look on the twenty-sixth or twenty-seventh of March as the most probable.
“And, indeed, that the passover of the crucifixion was an early one, may be collected from the circumstance of ‘the servants and officers’ having made a fire of coals in the hall of the high priest’s house, ‘for it was cold,’ at which they and Peter warmed themselves.” John 18:18; Luke 22:55; Mark 14:54. Whereas, the passovers of the two ensuing years, A. D. 32, April 14, and A. D. 33, were later in the season, and probably milder.
“The preternatural darkness at the crucifixion was accompanied by an earthquake, which altogether struck the spectators, and among them the centurion and Roman guard, with great fear, and a conviction that Jesus was the Son of God. Matt. 27:51-54.
“Ignatius and Eusebius both assign three years for the duration of our Lord’s public ministry.”
“Eusebius dates the first half of the passion week of years as beginning with our Lord’s baptism, and ending with his crucifixion. The same period, precisely, is recorded by Peter, as including our Lord’s personal ministry: ‘All the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of [or by] John, unto that same day that he was taken up from us,’ at his ascension, which was only forty-two days after the crucifixion. Acts 1:21, 22. And the remaining half of the passion week ended with the martyrdom of Stephen, in the seventh or last year of the week. For it is remarkable that the year after, A. D. 35, began a new era in the church; namely, the conversion of Saul, or Paul the apostle, by the personal appearance of Christ to him on the road to Damascus, when he received his mission to the Gentiles, after the Jewish Sanhedrin had formally rejected Christ by persecuting his disciples. Acts 9:1-18.”—Hales, Vol. II, pages 176, 177, 199, 200, 205, 206.
In the thirteenth century, Roger Bacon found, by computation, that the pascal full moon, A. D. 33, fell on Friday; and this circumstance led him, and several others, Scaliger, Usher, Pearson, etc., to conclude that this was the year of the crucifixion. The accuracy of the astronomical calculation has been repeatedly verified; and “this circumstance,” says Dr. Hales, “proves that it was not the year of the crucifixion; for the true paschal moon was the day before, Thursday, when Christ celebrated the passover with his disciples.”—Vol. II, page 205.
The Saviour ate the passover the night previous to his crucifixion, which took place on Friday, for “that day was the preparation, and the Sabbath drew on.” Luke 23:54. On the third day following—on the first day of the week—he rose triumphant from the tomb, the pledge of the resurrection of all the dead.
Dr. Hales, Usher, and Pearson place the martyrdom of Stephen, and the commencement of the first persecution, in A. D. 34.
With this act Dr. Hales closes the “one week” of Dan. 9:27, during which Christ should “confirm the covenant with many.”—“Analysis of Sacred Chronology,” by S. Bliss, pages 181-186.
Spasm and Habit in Governing Children
By Ernest Hamlin Abbott
A voice like a knife cut the still, warm air. “Now you just go right down and get that canned salmon.” I turned my head and saw a little girl, in a fluffy dress with a skirt like a parachute, standing in the midst of the long grass. She was evidently frightened and hesitating. There was a whimper and a whining protest. A young woman in a wrapper, with a menacing switch in her hand, was advancing. Her voice grew sharper: “You do what I say, quick, or I’ll whip you good!” The child beat a retreat toward me; then timidly stood her ground. “It’s so far,” she wailed. The enemy again approached; but the little feet of the child were nimble enough to keep her at a safe distance. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll whip you anyway.” Fear of the switch was evidently mastering the dislike of the task. The little girl burst out crying, turned down the dusty road, and disappeared in the direction of the village.
That incident was the result of government by collision. If that mother had any principle at all, it might be expressed thus: Wait till the child does wrong, then collide with her. Of course none of us would deliberately collide in just this fashion. We should not be so vulgar. When we have an altercation with a child, we choose less publicity and have some regard for refinement of phrase. Perhaps, too, we ordinarily avoid altercation entirely except concerning some grave matter. We should prefer to do without canned salmon rather than exhibit our impotence and our temper before the neighbors. When, however, we have the child in seclusion at our mercy, are we deterred from trying the collision method by any considerations of principle? If not, we belong to the same school of parents as the young woman in a wrapper. The only difference is that we have not her courage of conviction—or of indolence.
Now, those who believe in government by collision need read no further; for I shall assume that such government is only just better than no government at all, and that, if we fall into its methods, we do so by accident, or because of the frailty of our temper; that every altercation with a child is a confession of weakness; and that our principal task is to train ourselves so that we may be able to govern a child without colliding with him. Of course, in the training of children, as in railroading, it may sometimes be necessary to occasion a disaster in order to avoid a great catastrophe. If a freight car is running wild down a grade, it is better to throw it off the track than to allow it to smash a loaded passenger train. So it may sometimes be better to let a child collide with you, rather than have him collide with the community. But in both cases it is better to have the collision well planned, to recognize it as a disaster, though the lesser of two possible ones, and, best of all, to prevent any occasion of resorting to destructive measures.
The only alternative I know to government by collision is government by habit. To show what I mean, may I say, cite an instance in contrast to the episode of the switch and the canned salmon? That same summer a small boy, six years old, was playing with his blocks. His mother in the next room suddenly realized that she had not ordered the fruit that was needed for the household. “Max!” she called. Now Max is no prig, but he had learned that he was expected to come when called; so, with an injunction to his playmates not to disturb the bridge he was building, he appeared at the doorway. “What is it?” (He ought to have said, “Yes, mama,” but, as I have remarked, Max is thoroughly human.) “I want you to do an errand for me—something you’ve never done before. I want you to go to the grocery and get six oranges.” Max started off. “Wait a moment. You’ve never gone alone on such a long errand before. Do you believe you can do it quickly, and not dawdle?” Max thought he could, and in fact did the errand as promptly as could be expected. He had been accustomed to obedience; in addition, he had become accustomed to accepting some measure of responsibility. The mother controlled him, not by violence, but by habit. The occurrence was the result of a long process, and became in turn a cause of future occurrences of similar character. Reduced to its simplest terms, then, the process of training children is the process of forming habits.
The earliest habits are physical. The whole duty of man during the first few weeks of his existence consists in feeding and sleeping regularly; and most of the rights of man during that period consist in being let alone. If we wish to avoid, in later years, the necessity for resorting to government by spasm, and to establish instead government by habit, we do not have to begin by experimenting on a helpless child; we can begin, fortunately, by experimenting on ourselves.
It is during this period that we have the best chance of learning the difference between governing children and interfering with them; for though that midget will not thrive under interference, he will thrive under government. He does not need to be told what to do, but he does depend on us to teach him when to do it. While, therefore, we are forming in ourselves the habit of non-interference, we are also forming in him the habit of regularity. If we begin that way, we save both him and ourselves a great deal of trouble.
One mother, for instance, when she hears her baby cry, runs to him, picks him up, dances him up and down, offers him food, dangles a bell in front of him, talks to him, takes him to the window, tries every imaginable device to quiet him. “It’s wicked, I think,” she says, “to try to stifle my maternal instincts. The poor little dear! how could I be so cruel as not to respond to his cry for me?” She is assuming several things. She assumes, first, that the baby is crying for her, whereas he is probably crying because he needs the exercise. That is the only way he can expand his lungs. When he cries because of pain, or anger, or nervous irritability, the cry will be unmistakable; and the response ought to be, not a wild series of spasms, but an intelligent treatment of the cause. She assumes, in the second place, that the impulse to rid herself of the annoyance of hearing the cry is a maternal instinct. If that were so, a lot of gruff old bachelors on railway trains are frequently moved by maternal instinct. The maternal instinct, in fact, is something quite different—it is the instinct of care, watchfulness, nurture, and it does not call for spasms. In the third place, she14assumes that it would be cruel not to experiment with her child—at least so it appears, for what she does is to try in quick succession a series of experiments, no one of which is continued long enough to be of any value, and all of which, as she might easily learn, have been proved to be of no permanent value in producing placid, contented babies.
The other mother, when she hears the cry, listens. If it is a cry of pain, she knows it in an instant. It is amazing how quickly a mother learns that language. It is a mystery to most men, though, even to them not unsearchable. Physicians, after experience in children’s wards, understand it; and even a father, if he is patient, can acquire a moderate knowledge of it. But a mother, or even a nurse, if she is moved by a genuine maternal instinct and not by a selfish desire for her own comfort, is almost an adept at the start. At the cry of pain, that mother in a moment is looking for the misplaced pin, or rearranging the irritating bit of clothing, or remedying the uncomfortable position, or searching for a more hidden cause. If it is a cry of irritability, she blames herself for having rocked the child a few moments before, and steels herself against repeating the indulgence. If it is a cry of hunger, she looks at the clock to see if it is the hour for another feeding. If it is just “plain cry,” she smiles, for she knows that he is doing that in lieu of playing baseball or riding horseback. When it is meal-time, she, exercising the discretion which he is not always able to exercise for himself, gently withdraws the food supply when he has had all that is good for him. And when it is time for him to go to sleep, she arranges him comfortably in his crib, darkens the room, and leaves him. If then he emits another “plain cry,” she is not disturbed. He has as much right to cry as he has to sleep. If she lets him go to sleep in her arms, for the love of feeling him there, she will not complain later, when it is more inconvenient, if he remonstrates against going to sleep in any other way. She will know that in that respect, as in respect to his regular feeding, she has governed him by habit. Either she will have to pay the penalty of having established in her kingdom an inconvenient law, or else she will have to inflict upon him, as well as herself, the penalty of establishing later, and at greater cost, another and more convenient custom which might just as well have been established in the first place. This penalty may involve a collision—though possibly a mild one. Even in that case, however, in the very difficulty of supplanting an old custom by a new one, she will have evidence of the strength of her government by habit.—Ernest Hamlin Abbott, in The Outlook.
(To be concluded)
Courage
Because I hold it sinful to despond,
And will not let the bitterness of life
Blind me with burning tears, but look
beyond
Its tumult and its strife;
Because I lift my head above the mist,
Where the sun shines, and the broad
breezes blow,
By every ray and every rain-drop kissed
That God's love doth bestow —
Think you I find no bitterness at all,
No burden to be borne, like Christian's pack?
Think you there are no ready tears to fall
Because I keep them back?
Why should I hug life's ill with cold
reserve
To curse myself and all who love me?
Nay!
A thousand times more good than I
deserve
God gives me every day.
And in each one of these rebellious tears,
Kept bravely back, he makes a rainbow shine.
Grateful, I take his slightest gift. No
fears
Nor any doubts are mine.
Dark clouds must clear, and when the
clouds are past,
One golden day redeems a weary year.
Patient I listen, sure that sweet at last
Will sound his voice of cheer.
— Selected.
The Rio Grande Do Sul Conference
By John Lipke
JOHN LIPKE
The Rio Grande do Sul Conference was organized in 1906. At present it consists of five churches, with a little more than four hundred members. One minister, two licentiates, three Bible workers, and several teachers and canvassers, are our working force.
Our territory is the State of Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil, with about three times million inhabitants. We can divide the field into three parts: the cities and towns, the colonies, the campagna. The cities and towns are few and far apart, and are inhabited by a mixture of Brazilians and foreigners,—Germans, Italians, and a few other nationalities. About thirty per cent of the population can read. The largest city is Porto Alegre, the capital, with about eighty thousand people. Two lines of railway connect some of the cities and towns. The remainder can be reached by wagon or on muleback, often over bad roads.
The colonies are the settlements of foreign farmers, who emigrated from Europe. They live, in general, close together. A good per cent of these can read.
The campagna is like the prairies of Kansas, but not so level. It is mostly inhabited by Brazilians, who live on large estancias, far apart, and raise cattle, etc. One has to travel sometimes from three to five hours on muleback, from one estancia to the other. In the campagna perhaps only ten per cent of the people can read.15
From the beginning, our work has been more or less in the colonies, among the Germans. Only of late have we begun to labor in towns and cities, among the Brazilians. Lack of literature and workers speaking the Portuguese, has hindered us. Since our new book “A Vinda Gloriosa de Christo” (His Glorious Appearing) came from the press, we have pushed the effort in the cities. Our canvassers have had good success in cities like Porto Alegre, Santa Maria, and Bage. The daily papers to whose editors they introduced themselves have called the attention of the public to the book, in favorable, short notices. Thus the way has been prepared for good sales. One Protestant minister even, who had bought it, recommended it to his church, and a number of other ministers bought a copy.
At Santa Maria the field seems to be ripe. Our colporteurs found a number interested. One case only I will mention: A young man, an employee of one of the business houses, for some time had a desire to speak with an Adventist. As he could find none in Santa Maria, he decided to visit one of our brethren living near there. He was glad to meet our workers at Santa Maria, and was anxious to learn more of the truth. We hope to see him a laborer in our ranks. He is intelligent and earnest.
As we labor in the cities, we hope to find educated men, who, after a short training, can be used to advantage in the proclamation of the third angel’s message. Natives well trained will be more successful, and can be supported with less money, than a foreigner, who has to learn the language and get acquainted with the customs of the people before he can be successful.
Because the spirit of prophecy has counseled us to put forth strong effort in the cities, we have decided to buy a tent, and we expect to hold our next conference at Santa Maria (which has a population of twelve thousand), and a local camp-meeting in the town of Taquary.
Brother Brack, a German licentiate, is working in the colony of Sao Pedro. At first the way seemed to hedge up, on account of the opposition of some ministers. But the Lord opened the way. A man who had been in bed for weeks, and whom none could help, was restored to health by simple treatments. Prejudice has been removed, and people are coming from far and near, asking for counsel. Doors that otherwise would be closed, are now open as a result of the one successful treatment. This instance shows how important it is that all laborers know how to treat the sick.
BRAZILIAN FERRY
Brother Lindermann, a Bible worker, has been in another colony, New Wurttemberg. There he found interested souls, among them a former missionary of the Catholic Apostolic Church. This man is an intelligent German, who studies the truth. We hope to see him embrace the message.
Near Sao Miguel our brethren distributed copies of our Portuguese paper, O Arauto da Verdade. These created an interest among Brazilians. Brother Plantholt, a German, has called for a worker to follow up the interest. But we are sorry to say that at present we have no one suitable to go there.
In looking over the reports of our colleges in the States, I learn that the Spanish language is taught in our schools. This is well. But our young people ought also to study the Portuguese. Brazil needs many foreign laborers. Africa, India, China, also have Portuguese colonies, where no laborer has gone. The Portuguese language needs attention. May God raise up young, consecrated people, who can go forward to proclaim the last warning message in those dark countries where this language is spoken.
Taquary, Brazil.
Reminiscences of the Days of Our Imprisonment
By H. J. LOEBSACK
How the Truth Made Its Way in Russia
H. J. LOEBSACK
(Concluded)
ACCOMPANIED by a Russian police officer, we came to Taganash, situated on the Crimean railroad. The chief of police was not at home, so we were obliged to take leave of Brother Teske, and entered the prison pointed out by the police stationed there. It was a room about twenty feet long, ten feet wide, and twelve feet high. A single window at the end of the room and a four-cornered opening in the door were secured by iron bars. As we entered the room, there lay on a long wooden pallet, which served as a bed for the prisoners, an intoxicated man. The officer commanded him to lie on the ground, and let us occupy the pallet. There was nothing but the bare boards. After we had laid our clothes on them, and the officer had closed the door, we knelt down, thanking God for his protection and beseeching him to soften the heart of the officer so that, as Laban with Jacob of old, he could not speak other than friendly to us.
Meanwhile the Russian New-year had come. In the market-place sausage and other things were stolen by drunken men, horse thieves were caught, and all these were put in with us, until our cell lodged as many as fourteen men at a time, who danced, whistled, sang, and made the air foul with smoke. A trial was not to be thought of at such a time as this, so we waited there eleven days. As we had won the confidence of the officers in charge, we were permitted, several times a day, to go into the courtyard, where by way of variety we shoveled snow or walked back and forth, sang such songs as “A mighty fortress is our God,” “Let the Lord guide your affairs,” “See how Daniel in Babel prays,” and similar ones. God was with us as he was with Joseph in prison, with Daniel in the lions’ den, and with Paul and Silas in prison; even the stars in heaven comforted us, and it seemed as if every song and every Bible verse had been written especially for us. We had no Bible with us, only a Russian New Testament, which lay there for the prisoners to read. From its pages we sought comfort, and recalled the chapters of the books of Daniel and Revelation in regular order, and only too often our memory failed to recall the texts as we needed them, so we wrote to the brethren at Tschihir, urging them to search the Scriptures thoroughly while they still had the opportunity. At our meal-time, we were permitted to go into the market-place in company with a policeman to post our letters; we told every one why we were imprisoned, and in this way our belief became known in this place.
Once when Brother H. K. Loebsack read to one of the prisoners the parable of the prodigal son, the young man began to weep, and said that he was reading his own experience, for he had already left his father twice, but if he should become free, he would do as this lost son had done. As we knelt down and prayed, it seemed a strange spectacle to our fellow prisoners.
At last the holidays were ended, and we were examined in a very kind way by the chief officer, contrary to our expectations. He had had our books examined by a German, and said that he did not have the power to let us go, but that he would word his report in such a way that our release would be soon granted.
Since we boarded ourselves, we were paid our board money, six kopeken, or three cents, a day. Had we not had our own money or known the language, we would have been obliged to live on this small sum.
Caucasus.
The Bread of Life
“THOSE who live on the bread of life will never suffer from spiritual indigestion.”
